


The Vampire’s Bride

by VegebulMelodies



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Gore, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25956148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VegebulMelodies/pseuds/VegebulMelodies
Summary: Vampire AU (horror romance, so prep for the gore!)For decades, a horrifying beast has terrorized the world. Those he wishes to take as his prey, a gruesome sign is left upon their door. Yet, this creature has slept for the past generation, leaving the inhabitants of the valley in peace.Then, one fateful day, the Vampire Prince reawakens and picks a blue-haired damsel as his next prize...
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 9
Kudos: 46





	1. Chosen

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: After having my serial killer novel published, I’m in the mood to write some gore. Haven’t written a vampire fic in YEARS so this is going to be fun 😏

Wind, howling amongst the ever-groaning stone walls and squealing door hinges, tickled its way through the halls. The dark was at home here, weaving it’s way through the littered cobwebs and bone dusted floors. 

A rumbling sounded from the upmost tower, sending the rodents and vermin to scuttle to their hiding places. For awhile, it seemed as if they’d be left in peace. 

No longer...

Black eyes opened slowly, absent of bags or wrinkles in their fresh awakening. 

A yawn, exposing elongated fangs of glistening moonlight, shook a dark being to life from dreamless slumber. 

Neck popping sickeningly. 

Muscled, unusually carmelized arms with remarkably clean claws lifted a previously immovable body from its resting place. 

A being, frightening and regal, looked out upon the world for the first time in almost two decades...and gave a semblance of a smile. A pulsing had sounded in the dead man’s chest, aching long decayed muscles and blood vessels back as if a revenant. Which could only mean one thing:

_It’s time..._

Bulma woke to the sound of birds singing on her balcony. A Cardinal, blood red with black stripes along with it's plumage, flew into the room and landed next to her head. The blue-haired woman, often shamed for her own unique vibrancy, looked at the creature with a small smile. Her small cottage, decorated from roof-to-floor in drying herbs and multi-colored vials, was out of the ordinary compared to the rest of the townsfolk. If she was any other person, she’d be screaming and signing the cross out of the bad omen this beauty brought. Instead, she climbed out of bed and brought her last slice of bread on to the balcony ledge for it to eat.

She breathed and watched as the morning began around her home. All of the farmers trotted by in horse carts or barebacked, tipping their hats with a curious smile, taking in the sights of Bassa around them. Each building had the walls were crumbling or Mother Nature was slowing chipping away the paint from old murals. It looked quite beautiful and rustic, pleasing Bulma’s right brain. A few sweeping arches that hemmed churches and courtyards were littered about. Clay pots overflowing with ferns and roses adorned almost every stoop the cream and brown horses rode past. Not to say that the town was deserted either; children’s laughter rang through the air along with their broad-lipped mothers calling to them good-natured in thick tongues.

When a rare visitor happened to stop to ask for directions, all the tiny little townsfolk came bustling out of their shops, calling their wares, hoping this visitor would be some much-needed tourist income for the place. There literally was a butcher, baker, and candlestick maker on this block. For her, she followed in her late father's steps as the town apothecary. Which suited Bulma fine.

_Well, almost..._

  
  


“Did you finish those candles yet, dear? The doctor will be by later to grab a bundle and you know how testy he is when forced to wait,” Panchy tutted, kneading roughly at the dough on the counter.

She shook her head at her mother and set back to picking apart the lavender at her feet. The fire blazed before them, crackling gently in the cool morning breeze. “You know that’s been done for days now. It’ll be ready whenever he decides he’s good enough to come by.”

Bulma ignored the chattering from her mother and put the finished flower petals aside. After her trip out to the mountain today, she’ll turn the bits into lavender oil.

Panchy shook her head and wiped a hair back with her wrist, leaving a streak of flour across her forehead. “You know very well how hard it is for anyone to make a trip out here. We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

She received a shrug as an answer just before a loud boom sounded outside. The walls shook and bottles fell from the shelves, crashing to the ground with loud glass breaking. Bulma looked at her mother wide-eyed. The blonde stared back, bright eyes filled with dread. “Oh no...” her mother whimpered, her usual cheery voice barely above a whisper. 

With trembling hands, she rushed to the window but hardly reached out to open the shutters before they blew open in a frenzy. The breath was stolen from her lungs as the once-blue sky and it’s bright sun was swallowed in a sea of red. A swarm of fluttering black wings broke the dreadful color in a nauseating frenzy, the mass nodding and ebbing towards the town - towards them - with furious screeches and squeals. 

_What was-_

“Back away!” Panchy screamed, yanking her daughter roughly from the opening and slammed the wood back into place. “Is the door locked upstairs? The balcony?”

“It’s all closed,” Bulma answered, slightly breathless and definitely taken back by the sudden shift. Brushing stray hairs from her line of vision, she attempted to catch her breath as Panchy rushed through the house to double-check her daughter’s words. The roof shook violently, all of a sudden, and the screams of the flying creatures became almost-deafening for a few moments. “What’s happening?!” she yelled, the unknown feeling of fright washing over her form. 

Screams echoed through the streets outside. Children, who previously had been playing merrily, had gone quiet or thundered in horrifying ways. 

Clasping her hands over her ears, the young bluenette found herself curling close to the ground, back to the wall furthest from the front door. Never in her life had she felt or heard such misery. What made it even worse, in her mind, was she had no clue why. 

Then, just as quickly as it came, the sounds stopped. The streets outside, all creaks and moans within their own home, had gone still in wait. She dared not move, fearful of sending the world into horrors all over again. 

Eyes flickered to her left, peering through the sliver of light that seemed to enhance itself through the window panes; the sky was no longer dark, but the birds refused to take flight again. 

A terrified, mournful scream snapped Bulma’s head back to her front. The front door was open and her mother, blonde curls now in a crazed, worried mass, fell to the boards of their front porch. 

“Mom!” she called, rushing to her feet on shaky legs and running towards the door. Yet when she arrived there, her footsteps came to a stop. 

A bubble of nausea, acidic and tainted, threatened to push past her lips. 

Her head lightened as if Bulma was going to faint. 

_W-What happened...?_

Their yard that was once covered in lavender and rosemary, lined with blackberry bushes and shaded under a sweeping willow tree, was now drenched in a sea of red. Sticky puddles and splashes of what the smell determined could only be the iron of blood massacred itself over the mossy walkway, staining the white roses her mother so carefully tended every evening. The moon flowers closed themselves guardedly to prevent intrusion from the horrific gore. And...body parts. A hand, a few feet, cuts of long flesh, and stretches of tattered hair littered the walkway itself. As if each cobblestone needed to be adorned in gruesome display...but only in their yard. 

But Panchy wasn’t looking at any of that. She wasn’t weeping at the atrocity that fell upon her precious garden and home. 

Catching Bulma’s eye, she slowly turned to look at the once-purple door. 

Her breath caught, struggling to pull air in. 

Pale knees knocked together beneath her brown skirt. 

Her mother wailed, collapsing at her daughter’s feet. Desperate hands clutched and clawed at her legs as tears left almost black patches of wetness on the fabric. “Not my baby,” she moaned, horror and pleading fear evident in her voice. “Please! Don’t take my baby...”

In the center of the door, partially covering the window, a bloody symbol had been drawn. One that hadn’t been seen since before Bulma was born:

The mark of the vampire prince. 

He was awake again.


	2. Him

The older man whimpered as his nails dug haphazardly through the cold, wet earth. The pain in his left leg was tremendous, sparking every time he attempted to move the limb, yet pure adrenaline and an instinctual need to keep moving forced his body to continue shimmering across the ground. 

“Did you hear me, old man?” a booming voice boomed above him. The question sent waves of despair through his being; beneath his hips, the ground began to grow moist as he lost control of his faculties. 

Maybe within his home, only a few yards away, he could find the purchase of safety. Maybe-

Something sharp, as if it was a set of steel blades, raked down his back. The elder screamed in pain and horror, desperate to turn and view the assailant but terrified to do so. “Answer me!” the voice roared once more, the command within its tone so compelling that any mere mortal could not help but comply. 

Shaking fervently, the human nodded, coating his face in scattered traces of mud. This seemed to satisfy the monster, as a low growl of contentment grumbled around them. Fearful of if it was safe to move - and unwilling to find out - the weak, assaulted man remained in place. His breathing attempted to steady itself; stress-lined fingers found subtle relief in the fresh ground as the tips burrowed themselves in. 

“Now...” The being, it suddenly was right behind his right ear. Speaking words that, no matter how dastardly, he knew he would comply. Hot, oozing breath trickled over the veteran’s neck and slinked it’s way past his collar. “The girl will be delivered to the forest’s edge tonight. Or you will not live to see the dawn.”

The threat hung heavy in the air, thick with the promise of vengeful carnage, as the beast vanished back to whence it came. And there, Roshi sobbed into the ground in heaving breaths as the command began to sink its claws into his psyche.

A cup of tea, no longer gently billowing wispy grey strands of steam into the air, sat idly in front of Panchy. Seemingly incoherent, the older Briefs woman had scarcely moved from the front door since the massacre occurred. Haunted eyes watching fellow mothers pour out of their homes, wailing for the deliverance of their children who did not make it inside. Viewing fathers, dirty fingers grasping strands of their matted hair madly, collapsing to the pavement in wordless disbelief. 

There was nothing to be done now. She knew that. Nothing to bring back those whose remains scattered the outside of her well-kept home. And nothing to save her beautiful daughter from the slaughter.

As soon as she realized what had begun, Bulma stole herself away into the house. Besides quickly bringing a cup of lychee and a harvest shawl for her immobile mother’s shoulders, the girl locked herself away in the only place that may have answers: her father’s study. 

Panchy rarely ventured down into this room anymore. An underground portion of the home - unheard of amongst the neighbors - with wall-to-wall bookshelves. Tables littered with unfinished sketches plans to transform their humble village into a flourishing metropolis, he had said. Bulma’s father studied everything, and anything there was to know.

_So why can’t I find anything about this stupid symbol?!_

Shoulders massive and calves cramping from the jolting movement, the bluenette hurried around the space looking for answers. Some books of local creatures and beasts sat open on a cleared desk, but none had information about that symbol. Even when coated in blood - the thought still making Bulma gag - it was distinguishable in its appearance. She’d seen it before, on the cover of one of these tomes. It’s just a matter of which one it was...

She didn’t even realize she had found it until it was too late; upon running her hands frustratedly over the spines of unmarked books, a particularly dark blue one send a jolt of electricity through her. Her body convulsed, shaking tremendously as a surge of pain rocked Bulma to the core. 

And then the world went black. 

The darkness swam around her, ebbing hypnotically. In some corner of her subconscious, the maid realized she was dreaming. Why else would the world behind her closed eyes swim so?

A whisper from the abyss. Spinning in the space of her mind, Bulma couldn’t see well enough to find the source of the sound. But it repeated itself. 

_Was it saying...?_

“Bulma.” The sound was louder, directly behind her. 

Turning quickly, the blue eyes widened in amazement. There was a being here. A man, it sounded like, about her height at least. With hair spiking high towards the sky and eyes almost as black as the swirling cloud surrounding them, he stood just a foot away from her. Watching. 

“W-Who are you?” she asked quietly, unable to keep the slight tremor of fear out of the sound. 

A soft noise; a chuckle? Was he laughing at her? “You will find out soon enough,” he stated vaguely. “See you soon...Bulma...”

There was an unreal feeling surrounding this being; the answer to the questions she had. Omnipotent and horrifying...yet a small part of herself felt comfort in his presence. A kinship?

_Bulma..._

_Bulma..._

“Bulma! Please wake up, honey!”

Her eyes opened suddenly, unable to focus. A tremendous pounding in her head made Bulma groan. It was her mother, with sad but concerned eyes, standing over her. “What happened?” she moaned, letting whatever soft hands that gripped her arms help her into a sitting position. 

Panchy bit her lip. Those bright blue eyes, just like hers, were rimmed with red. “I need you to go pack.”

_Pack?_ “Are we leaving? Mom, I know the answer to whatever is on the door is down here. I just need-“

“There’s no time for that!” she yelled, interrupting her daughter’s train of thought. It was rare that her mother was ever upset. But to yell? Something was wrong... Those eyes welled for a moment before tearing away to look at the mess around them. “You need to go pack. Take everything you can fit in one case. There are...people outside waiting to take you away.”

Her heart clenched tightly; an unsettled feeling landed in the pit of her stomach. “Where?”

“... to him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank you my readers here on Ao3 and followers everywhere. I read each and every comment you give and, even though I don't always reply, the thankfulness I have for you is boundless. 
> 
> A very special shoutout to my Patreon supporters (my beautiful Blues, Princes, Super Blues, and Saiyans): 
> 
> GreyMochila, Bee, Mrs. Yuuwaku, Loreal Davis, Ayla Bo, Holli, Sara Beth, Allegra Kynge, Holli, Incarnate Warshade, and TheBrokenAnatomy
> 
> I love you all ❤️
> 
> Be sure to follow me on Twitter @MelodiesVegebul for updates, behind the scenes stuff, and mini-smuts. 
> 
> For specific email notification updates on this story, be sure to hit the ‘SUBSCRIBE’ button in the upper right hand corner of your screen.

**Author's Note:**

> I thank you my readers here on Ao3 and followers everywhere. I read each and every comment you give and, even though I don't always reply, the thankfulness I have for you is boundless. 
> 
> A very special shoutout to my Patreon supporters (my beautiful Blues, Princes, Super Blues, and Saiyans): 
> 
> GreyMochila, Bee, Mrs. Yuuwaku, Loreal Davis, Ayla Bo, Holli, Sara Beth, Allegra Kynge, Holli, Incarnate Warshade, and TheBrokenAnatomy
> 
> I love you all ❤️
> 
> Be sure to follow me on Twitter @MelodiesVegebul for updates, behind the scenes stuff, and mini-smuts. 
> 
> For specific email notification updates on this story, be sure to hit the ‘SUBSCRIBE’ button in the upper right hand corner of your screen.


End file.
